


Troubling

by cupidty11



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Telltale Series (Video Game)
Genre: Internal Conflict, Internal Monologue, M/M, Pining, bruce's pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 02:15:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12831165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cupidty11/pseuds/cupidty11
Summary: Bruce is panicking a bit about the whole 'being in love with a criminal' thing.





	Troubling

**Author's Note:**

> idk what this is. i'm tired and just wanted to write a little something. literally fucking ANYTHING because i've been so deep in the writer's block. also i'm avoiding sleep and doing school work. *fingerguns*

The entire thing was deeply troubling.

Batman was something he could take off at night. Whether or not he was completely gone by the time the sun came up, was debatable.

But, Bruce Wayne was vulnerable. People knew him. Or rather they knew his persona. Spoiled, morally ambiguous, shallow. Maybe he gave to charities. Maybe he hid behind the dark past of his father.

The Real Bruce...well, he was something that only a small group of people knew. It used to only be Alfred. Now the number was growing. And it was mostly criminals who knew him. Selina, Harvey and now...John.

John was...just trying to describe the other man was difficult. Unnerving, charming, awkward, confused, endearing...

Once upon a time, Bruce might’ve subscribed to the concept of a black and white world. As Batman he often had to make choices that were difficult and they were made easier by ignoring any shades of grey.

Selina Kyle was a thief. She was also fiercely independent, secretly longing to be more than a criminal. She was funny and smart and beautiful. And one of his only friends.

Harvey Dent...thinking about him was painful. Yes, he’d done terrible things. But, he was also kind, wanting to protect Gotham even from itself.

Bruce could go on and on actually. Lady Arkham had aspects of her that weren't 100% evil. Nor did Cobblepot. 

Now, there was John...John who was part of this underground criminal group that definitely had killed people. And he often seemed to relish the chaos and violence. John’s words about something beneath his skin, pacing like an animal in a cage, scared the hell out of him because he had seen it too.

But, there were times when Bruce KNEW he saw something else. Something GOOD. Something that needed to be nurtured. If all of John’s darkest impulses were being encouraged by the Pact, then wasn’t it only right that he do the opposite?

Despite only knowing each other for a few days in Arkham, John had latched onto him. Maybe it was weird. It _was_ certainly slightly disturbing. Or it should’ve been. All of Bruce’s ‘normal person’ instincts said it was.

And yet, he’d felt like he’d been drawn without fighting into a orbit of some unfathomable star, surrendering to a current in a merciless sea.

John, like Selina and Harvey, had seen through the Bruce Wayne Persona to the real person beneath, effortlessly. And worse, Bruce didn’t feel as if he’d put any real effort into keeping it up. It was like as soon as John had given any hint that he could SEE him, he had dropped it all to the floor without a second glance. And now, out here in Gotham, it still felt like there was some strange connection.

When he was with John it was like some part of himself that he was used to echoing emptily like a certain cave, were full. Like all the jagged edges he’d resigned himself to weren’t GONE but, certainly didn’t stab at his insides until he bled despair. Instead they felt dulled and distant. The nightmares and memories felt like what they were; memories and nightmares. Not the white hot images that had burned themselves into his very DNA (blood, pearls, gun, death). The rage he carried deep in his soul felt nearly nonexistent in the face of his incredulousness, his pity, the concern, the urge to laugh, to cringe, to run, to take this ridiculous man and shield him, protect him like the knight he’d been called in so many tabloids.

And hell if Bruce didn’t want to believe he saw the same feelings shining out of John’s ridiculously bright eyes.

Bruce wanted to believe in what John was saying. That they were friends, best friends. That they had something incredible here, between them. He wanted to believe in those smiles, the strange (and wonderful) devotion shining from his pale face.

Bruce wanted that face. In all it’s sharp, odd, glory.

John wasn’t handsome or cute or anything obviously appealing. His mouth was too big, too wide with too many teeth and thin lips. His eyes were strange, bright green. Ears sticking out a bit. It was unreal how pale he was, almost sickly looking. Thin and gangly, awkward. His walk was like he was performing in a cheap theater. And he stood like he wanted to curl in on himself, unsure. Hands big with nails bitten anxiously to the quick.

John was as weird looking as his personality was. And yet.

Bruce wanted to pull him close and keep him there until the heat lingered. Press their bodies together til it was unclear where one began and the other ended. Bruce wanted his laughter and his passion. Wondered what he would sound like as he pushed John over the edge (giggling, panting, groaning, gasping,yelling). He wanted to find his pulse and count the beats, memorize it at every emotion. Fast and slow and anxious and relaxed. Hold his face in his hands and stroke every feature until he could draw John in the dark. Kiss that mouth, feel the smile against his lips.

The idea of potentially hurting John made his stomach clench. And Bruce was terrified that it was inevitable the way things were going. Add some deeply inappropriate jealousy that burned his insides whenever John mentioned Harley and Bruce had himself an absolute fucking mess of a situation. He should only be focused on keeping his cover, discovering what the Pact was up to and taking them down at (almost) any cost. And he WAS. Mostly.

But fuck, even BATMAN felt affected by John.

Batman was supposed to be stoic, unaffected, emotionless except for the rage and ruthless efficiency he let out upon the scum of Gotham. Instead, he was doing his best to cling to his mission, actually having to think about exerting his self control to avoid smiling at the ridiculous things John said.

 _John is a criminal_ , Batman said, _he has been involved in situations that led to killing, maybe even killed, himself. At the very least he's a conspirator. John is a bad guy._   _He deserves any justice that is coming to him_.

And yet, Batman was also gentler than he needed to be. He was lenient and patient ( _should’ve smashed his phone, destroyed the evidence, should not have given him the Batarang or taught him how to throw it)._ He watched John from inside Bruce Wayne's eyes and wanted to believe in the Good he saw, as well. Batman was already thinking through contingency plans that involved keeping John safe in the upcoming days whatever they may bring. 

So, yes... It was deeply troublesome.


End file.
